


young and beautiful

by kxtsukiyuri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Genderfluid Yuuri, Implied Bullying, Pre-Canon, god bless hiroko katsuki, god so much fluff, non-binary Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxtsukiyuri/pseuds/kxtsukiyuri
Summary: If Yūri was in more denial than he already was about this whole thing, he would say he didn't know when he started feeling the way he does. But he does know. He remembers it clear as crystal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaahhhhhh yūri my love

Yūri was five, and Hiroko decided it was time for him to start figuring out how to upkeep a household. After all, she would say, they all lived in their house together and it was only fair that they shared the chores equally. She started out small — having him help her in the kitchen, just little tasks like preparing breading for something or beating eggs. She would have him follow her around as she cleaned the house, and he would notice when something was out of place or dirty. These little tasks went on until they were both confident in his abilities to clean and tidy on his own, and then until she finally had him do his own little load of laundry, from washing to folding. He was extremely excited to be able to do something on his own, and had his mother leave him to do it unless he needed help.

   He decided to do a wash of his and Mari’s clothes, because she never really picked up her room all the way and there were hidden pieces of dirty clothes everywhere. He happily went through every step in the process, sighing in contentment when he finally pulled the warm clothes out of the dryer and sat right there in the washroom to fold them. He had two baskets, one for his clothes and one for Mari’s, and he sorted them out first before folding. He did his own clothes quickly before getting to his sister’s. As he looked into the basket and pulled out a light, flowing skirt, he got the strangest urge to try it on. He glanced around, peeking his head out of the washroom before closing the door and turning back to the skirt. He tugged it on over his pants before looking at himself in the small mirror propped up in the corner, and his eyes widened at the sight.

   It was… quite nice, actually. It looked a little lumpy from his pants underneath it, but he liked it anyway. He watched the way the hem swished in the mirror before twirling around and laughing as it fluttered through the air. He then did the rest of the folding wearing the skirt, almost forgetting he was wearing it until he dragged the basket of Mari’s clothes into her room, where she was studying. She frowned when she saw what he was wearing as he put her clothes away, humming happily.

   “Um… Yūri?” She asked, and he perked up, looking over at her.

   "Yes, Mari?” He answered politely.

   "What are you wearing?” He looked down and blushed, quickly taking the skirt off.

   "Oh, uh, I just wanted to try it on. Sorry for not askin’.” He started to fold it up before he stopped him.

   "No, it's okay, I was just wondering.” He nodded slowly, having folded it anyway, and he held it close to his chest.

   “I like it,” He said softly, his voice muffled further by the fabric. “It's soft and pretty.” Mari tilted her head, then smiled a little.

   “You can have it if you want. It was getting a little short for me anyway.” He gasped, looking up at her again.

   “Really?” He asked excitedly, clutching the skirt.

   “Yeah. Go ahead.” He grinned widely, laughing a little and jumping up and down before stopping and clearing his throat, bowing to Mari slightly.

   "Thank you, Mari.” His briefly serious demeanor melted away within a second as he all but skipped out of the room to put the skirt back on, already tugging off his pants on the way out.

*****

He continued to wear the skirt almost every day. There were some days he forgot, but didn't mind, some days he didn't feel the need to wear it, and some days where his chest would get all tight and his vision would go blurry with tears if he couldn't find it, the only pretty thing he had. After one of those days, Hiroko took it upon herself to buy some more skirts for Yūri and even a few accessories.

   (The day she came home with those, Yūri nearly started bawling the second he opened the bag. Hiroko had worried that she'd messed up, but then Yūri had tried to put on every article of clothing at once.)

   After that, Yūri was almost never seen without something feminine in his outfit, something bright or shiny or glittery. One day, Yuko came over as he was getting dressed in a fancy play outfit and she squealed at the dress, marveling over the fabric and eagerly asking to help Yūri with his makeup.

   “Are… are you sure?” He asked, pulling up his cheap, too-long opera gloves as they slipped down his arms.

   "Of course!” She replied ecstatically, pulling a tiny makeup kit out of her school bag. “I can help you look even prettier! Would you like that?” Yūri nodded, smiling wide as he dragged Yuko to the bathroom so she could put on the makeup. He giggled at the feeling of the little foam brush on his eyelids, but liked how the soft purple eyeshadow looked with his eyes. She put blush on his cheeks and gave him a light coat of lipgloss before letting him look in the mirror. He gasped when he opened his eyes. 

“I look… I look…” His face broke into a wide grin as he laughed in delight, clapping his hands and feeling happy tears prickle in his eyes.

   “I look so pretty!” He proclaimed, his chest swelling at the sight in the mirror. He hopped down off the stool in front of the sink and hugged Yuko tightly.

   "Thank you for making me perfect, Yuko-san.” He whispered into her shoulder. She held him back, not quite understanding why he was reacting so strongly, but she was happy that Yuri was happy.

   "You're welcome, Yūri.” He peeled himself off of her after a moment, holding her hands and bouncing on his feet.

   "I wanna do your makeup too! And then we can pretend that we're two mamas going to the market! You can borrow some of my clothes.” He spoke with a hopeful grin, waiting excitedly for Yuko’s reply. She smiled and nodded, sitting on the floor and handing Yūri the makeup kit. His application was a little clumsier than Yuko’s, but she was happy to clean up the edges.

   “There!” Yūri proclaimed triumphantly at the last swipe of lipgloss. “Now we're both pretty!” Yuko nodded and put away the kit.

   "Now we can go play, right?” She asked, and he nodded, bouncing up from the floor and dragging her out, already chattering away about what accessories she could wear.

*****

The years went on until Yūri could finally go to school, and everyone who loved him tried their hardest to protect him from the world. His parents knew how cruel children could be, even without meaning to, and very gently suggested that maybe he shouldn't wear dresses and skirts outside quite so often. Yuko recognized the dirty glares and nasty words from other kids and blocked them from Yūri’s view, distracting him with talking about skating or clothes. Even Takeshi, a big, burly boy in Yuko’s grade who liked to tease Yūri a lot protected him, mostly at Yuko’s insistence. Mari, of course, was fiercely protective of Yūri and was always ready to take anyone on if they went out together.

   He could only be protected for so long, though. After all, Yuko, Takeshi and Mari were all in different grades from him and his parents couldn't always be there, so he started to hear the comments and see the glares. Slowly but surely, everything he used normally to accessorize with his bland school uniform seeped out of his everyday wear and all got put in a small box in the closet, hidden from view lest he see it and want to wear everything again. The way the other boys in his grade talked about him when he got older was confusing and distressing. Why did the word _girl_ feel so ugly coming from their mouths? He shied away from everyone after a while, even if they were trying to be friendly, and saved himself for the Ice Castle, where he could fly freely. Save for those beautiful moments in the rink, the next few years of school for him were absolutely miserable.

   Then he found out about Viktor Nikiforov. He fell _hard_ , even for just the idea of Viktor, for everything he represented for Yūri. When he flew across the ice in his beautiful costumes, he seemed so confident. And his hair… it was gorgeous, long and shiny. Watching Viktor, Yūri allowed himself to wonder… could someone like Viktor — so strong and beautiful and _powerful_ , but so delicate and feminine — be just like him? When he watched Viktor skate, his eyes wide and a flush on his face, he felt many, many, too big emotions well up in his too small chest, too many for him to count. But one he could pick out each and every time was an overwhelming sense of hope. Hope that he wasn't alone. Hope that he wasn't as strange as all his classmates seemed to think he was.

   Hope that someday, he could be that beautiful too.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and feedback appreciated and encouraged ^v^


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